


Electric Blue

by NothingRiddikulus



Category: Cosmere - Brandon Sanderson, Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Oathbringer spoilers, Second Kiss, Teen rating is for swearing, did i add 'blue' onto the title bc it sounds more like a band name? yes, do i like yonen buzz more than i should? yes, idk whats going on but my writing style is peak in this one, its super cool, they're punks, uuuh i probably used brittish slang so they're brittish in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 04:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13403661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NothingRiddikulus/pseuds/NothingRiddikulus
Summary: There was something hypnotic about how Kal moved, so obviously engulfed with the music, feeling the drum beats echo inside his chest just as Renarin was, and loving it.Renarin loves music. He also loves Kaladin. A gift for TheRangress with a sizeable helping of punk.





	Electric Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheRangress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRangress/gifts).



Renarin’s foot slammed into his bass drum pedal as the drumsticks in his hands whipped through the air. He hit the cymbals on the third beat of the bar, just as Rysn strummed a B minor chord and Lyn the same an octave below. Kaladin flicked his hair, brought the mic to his mouth, and following a cue from Rlain’s bass guitar they were into the chorus. Renarin’s heart sang. Damn did it feel good to play with these people. They were only practicing but the sound they made was something really special.

Kal’s voice, in particular. Kal’s voice was heaven, melodic and full, with a near impossible range and at times, when the band played something heavier, accentuated with soft growls that threatened to grow into screams. Kaladin himself was beautiful too, and Renarin had a glorious view of him from his place at the back of the area they’d designated as the stage. There was something hypnotic about how Kal moved, so obviously engulfed with the music, feeling the drum beats echo inside his chest just as Renarin was, and _loving_ it. Seeing Kaladin happy -shit, seeing Kaladin at all- made Renarin just as elated as the music did.

_That morning, Adolin had taken eyeliner in a vibrant red, floursihing it like a sword, and swept it over his brother’s lids, furnished his waterlines with fire._

_‘It brings out the blue’, Adolin had told him. ‘Your eyes look electric.’_

Renarin _felt_ electric. The song ended and he felt buzzing in his veins, still filled with adrenaline. He watched Kaladin pull his hair into a ponytail, baby hairs sticking to his neck. Kal turned around, panting, and grinned at him. Renarin was suddenly filled with heat as well.

For a moment after the music stopped, there was silence. And then there was laughter and praise, and casual conversation. The atmosphere was lost, but it would be back again. And besides, Renarin had other exciting things to think about.

_Last week, in the cold of the night after their latest show, Kaladin had kissed him. Renarin’s mouth had still been bloody from the chaotic turn of the evening, and his heart frantic. He’d made a joke of it -‘our first kiss and our first bar fight!’- and Kaladin had apologised for bad timing. Renarin had kissed him again and told him he’d always imagined it like this, the two of them tired and clinging to each other, and full of new ideas about what it meant to be alive._

He and Kaladin were alone in the corner of the room, moving akwardly around each other and blushing as they wound wires around their arms and bound instruments into cases. Their friends’ chatter faded as they left the flat and then the building and then the street. Kal grinned in a nervous, couldn’t-hold-it-back kind of a way, and he glanced at Ren from underneath his thick eyelashes.

And then Renarin ran at him, threw his arms around Kaladin’s body and laughed as the two of them slammed together, Kaladin snorting with laughter as he picked Renarin up and spun him around. They collapsed into each other, and kissed gently a few times. Renarin felt Kal’s smile on his lips. They pulled apart slowly, and Kal, bright red, pushed his head into Renarin’s chest.

‘This isn’t very punk of me’

‘Boys kissing boys is always punk.’

‘No I meant… getting flustered.’

‘That’s subversive of toxic masculinity.’

Kal pulled away. ‘I uh, stitched this up for you.’ He passed Renarin a bundle of dark leather that became a jacket when the shoulders were gripped and the rest allowed to fall. Renarin put it on, and ran his fingers along the repaired tear over his shoulder blade. The stitches were even and neat, but they added a whole new element to his coat of armour. And most importantly, stopped people from being able to see his t-shirt through it.

‘You saved it’s life.’

‘ _It_ could have saved _your_ life.’

‘A broken bottle to the back would not have killed me, Kaladin.’

‘Well no, probably not, but the dirty glass might have given you an infection and then… Are you laughing?’

‘Yes. You’re silly.’

Kal was right though, in that Renarin’s jacket protected him. The spikes on the shoulders kept him safe in a literal sense, filling him with bravery as he walked into a room and stopping ayone he didn’t want getting too close. And the thick material coating him stopped the feeling of vulnerablity that would have otherwise come with the flags, slogans, and infinity signs that emebllished Renarin’s chest as a mix of pins and patches. 

The magical bravery seemed to work in the presence of beautiful boys who you wanted to kiss again too. Beautiful boys to whom you wanted to express your feelings.

‘Kal?’

‘Yes?’

‘What... what do you want?’

‘From this? From us?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Shit I don’t know.’ He ran a hand through his hair and looked Renarin up and down. ‘It feels like ‘us’ is too new. It feels like I’m not allowed to want anything yet.’

‘Am I allowed to tell you what I want?’

‘Of course.’ Kal leaned against the wall and crossed his arms anxiously. His face was a stern mask, painted with disinterest to hide apprehension.

_Just now, Renarin had caught side of Kaladin’s face from the side, his lips illuminated with the sun that beamed through the window he stood at and the rest of his face a starkly marked out sillhouette. Renarin had watched his long black lashes flutter as he sighed. Kal had turned to face him, and his beautiful mouth had formed a smile that was shaped like the first syllable of ‘I love you’. Renarin had known, at once, exactly what it was he wanted._

‘What I want Kaladin… No, what’s going to happen, what I know is going to happen is that it’ll be ten years from now and we’ll be cuddled up on this sofa, right? This sofa but a different flat, a _house_ even. Our house. And uh, one of us will be holding a baby-‘

‘Two babies.’

‘Two?’

‘One for each of us to hold.’

‘Ah yes of course. I’m a fool. Anyway, we’ll each be holding a baby, and we’ll be watching something stupid on the telly I bet, and we’ll have steaming mugs of tea and be happy.’

‘And we’ll still be making music?’

‘Of course we’ll still be making music, Kal. I never want to not be making music with you. I never want to stop hearing you sing.’

‘You make me want to never stop singing.’ 

_And so at that moment Kal put the radio on and they danced, hands in each other’s hair, and sang the words as loud as they could. Kaladin’s beautiful voice was still beautiful out of breath. They turned the radio up and up and up until Renarin could feel the drum beats in his chest again and Kal’s lips on his only made him more euphoric. Electricity ran through Renarin’s veins. The two of them had flipped a switch, and now love rung out free of constraint, amplified for the whole damn world to hear._


End file.
